


never been sure of anything much (get less so the longer you live)

by strawberrykindasummer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Famous Harry Styles, Famous Liam Payne, Famous Zayn Malik, Guitarist Harry Styles, Louis has a cat, M/M, Meet-Cute, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Oneshot, Orchestra, Teacher Louis Tomlinson, Teacher Niall Horan, he teaches Beatles songs, inspired by a passenger song, music teacher Louis tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrykindasummer/pseuds/strawberrykindasummer
Summary: Fic inspired by the Passenger song “Words.”Sometimes you have to wait for the right time to be together. Eighteen months to be exact.or, Louis sees Harry three different times before the stars seem to align for them
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 29





	never been sure of anything much (get less so the longer you live)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I highly recommend streaming Passenger because Spotify told me I was in his top 1% of listeners worldwide and I know it’s because I listened to “Words” every time I worked on this work.

The First Time That I Saw {Him}

_"Well the first time that I saw her/Standing in the middle of the road/ Eyes as bright as Christmas lights/ Wearing someone else's clothes"_

"Julie, play this chord with me. 'ere, put your fingers like this," I folded her middle finger down and pushed slightly on her index finger. I then moved my hands to the neck of my own guitar, mirroring her. I began to lightly strum, prompting her and the rest of the class to follow me.

"Sing with me, class!" I called, leading them back into the chorus. A sudden, loud ensemble began to sing "Here Comes the Sun." 

They were very good, for inexperienced second years. Some of them hadn't even been able to recite the itsy-bitsy spider at the first of the year, now they were quoting The Beatles. That's proper progress.

It was also the perfect time for them to begin learning to play instruments. I loved teaching the older kids, but being able to inspire children to love music at a young age was what I really enjoyed. 

I glanced around the class, who were all still strumming and humming the words under their breath. I never would have imagined myself here ten years ago. Hell, four years ago I thought moving to London meant turning myself into a musician, not teaching future ones. I'm wearing a cardigan, for god's sake. I used to wear leather jackets.

But I was happy here.

I was just moving them into the second verse when the bell rang, signaling an end to arts and the beginning of lunch. Their teacher arrived as I was hanging the last of the small guitars on the display wall.

"Pez is here!" I called to the class, watching little ears perk up in attention. I also saw Perrie subtly roll her eyes at the nickname. "How do we show her we're ready for lunch?"

The children quickly rushed to Perrie (or Miss Edwards as I refused to call her) and formed a straight line, beaming up at her.

Pez smiled back down at her students. "What do we say to Mr. Tomlinson?"

"Thank you, Mr. Tommo!" Little screams filled the air. I smiled back at them all while Perrie rolled her eyes again.

"See you tomorrow, kids! We'll try to finish the song!" A few students cheered at that as they were ushered out of the room. Then I was surrounded by silence again. 

Grabbing my lunch from the mini-fridge behind my desk, I started towards the teacher's lounge. I may not have envisioned this as my future, but I am glad it is where I ended up.

\----

"Lou, come over to mine tonight." The school day was over now, and the silence of the hallway was broken as Niall bounded up beside me, throwing an arm over my shoulders.

"Yours?" I asked the Irishman, glancing up at him as I continued my walk to the teacher's lounge. I was certain I had left my cardigan there during lunch and if this morning's chill was any indication, I wouldn't want to leave it behind over the weekend. God, I really was becoming an old man. "Any special occasion?"

I was only half-listening, still focused on my quest to retrieve my sweater and planning chores to complete this weekend.

"A mate of mine just graduated from Uni in June, got a job down here now. Wanted to give him a proper welcome to the city."

"By throwing a party in your shitty flat?" And, okay, maybe I needed to be paying more attention. If there had been a student around to hear me I would never hear the end of it.

But Niall's laughter was echoing around the hallway now, blanketing any words that might have been overheard. "He's got to get used to London living some way or another, best learn now."

"Hmm." I had stopped listening again because we had reached the door to the teacher's lounge.

"Mate," Niall pressed on, pulling my attention back to him and his open invitation. "Come, yeah? It'll get you out of that depressing, empty flat. I'll even let you crash on that armchair you love so much." He grinned as he said it, softening the blow the first half of his sentence had made.

"I hate that armchair," I murmured grumpily, almost instinctual by this point, but I felt a grin crawling onto my face as well. "I'll be there. What time?"

He clapped my shoulder roughly, "Great! Shoot for nine!" And he was already leaving, a bounce in his step that probably meant he was going in search for his next victim.

"So ten?" I called down the hallway to him. All I got back was an answering whoop.

-—  
Dropping my keys in the bowl beside the door never felt quite as good as it did after a particularly long week. The finality that came with the metal hitting the glass left the promise of a weekend of quiet relaxation.

Just not tonight. Niall expecting me to stay awake until ten after a full week of lessons seemed an almost impossible feat. I would definitely need a nap before I participated in whatever crazy plans he had for the night. Why did I agree to go? I was tired and the quiet calmness of my flat was calling me into peaceful dreams.

He was right, though. My flat could be pretty depressing. It was obvious that two people lived here, or at least, two people were supposed to live here, but only one side of the bed had been slept on. One empty mug of tea was left on the counter from breakfast. One plate in the sink. One pair of shoes by the door. 

But it was meant for two. Two smiling faces peered out of every frame. There were "His" and "Hers" towels in the bathroom, and the wardrobe still had a few dresses Eleanor had left behind when her job had dragged her halfway across the globe.

_"One year abroad and then I'll be back and we'll be planning our wedding. If we can make it through this, we can make it through anything."_

I don't know if we _were_ making it through this, is the thing. I still loved Eleanor, of course, but staying connected was getting harder and harder to do. She had been gone so long that we had both been reshaping our lives without the other in it, though she still followed me everywhere I looked.

"Niall was right," I said to the photo of Eleanor that sat in a frame on my dresser. She didn't respond, and I knew if I were to call her the real version wouldn't either. 

My nap helped. Two hours to chill by myself and then I was so rejuvenated that I decided to leave early. 9:30 meant there was enough time to stop at the store on the corner and get a six-pack. If I was still early, I could probably pregame with Niall. 

Was this a party that involved a pregame? It's been so long since I have been to one that I can't even tell, but I think any party with Niall warrants getting a little buzz beforehand. The six-pack in my hands made me feel more confident, anyhow. Made me remember being young and having plans on Friday nights to get absolutely smashed with my mates. It was these memories that I was running through my head, fighting back the nerves that came from heading into a room full of people I wouldn't recognize, when I first saw him.

There was a man standing in the middle of the road in front of Niall's building. His eyes were cast above him, either looking to the windows of the apartments or to the sky above. He had long, wavy hair that was slightly greasy on top, and he was wearing an outfit that looked like it had been owned by a few other people before it had been taken into his possession. I tried my best to ignore him, no matter how guilty it made me feel. It had taken a while of living in London to teach me how to walk by someone in need, but I found that it was a necessary evil in most cases. I would just have to walk around him, head down. Then he stopped me. 

"Sir?" A deep voice tickled my ears, nervous and shy. A hand grabbed my arm but went away as soon as I halted. "Do you mind telling me which building is The Bridgestone Apartments?"

My eyes traveled up to meet the boy's face, and - oh. Up close, this man was much too clean to be someone who slept on sidewalks...and much too _beautiful._ Big, shining green eyes blinked at me, moving quickly down my frame before coming back to scan my face. For a moment, we stood in silence staring at each other.

Then a car honked at us. Because we were in the middle of the road. Right.

I made a grab for his sleeve and tugged him to follow me to the sidewalk. In such close proximity, I could catch the scent of his cologne. It was sweet, like sugar, but warm and spicy as well. I was tempted to tuck my face into the crook of his neck and - stop. That was a dangerous thought, very dangerous indeed.

When we reached the sidewalk, I had to let go of him. He was still watching me with those big eyes, and for some reason, my face felt warm.

"Um," I coughed, jerking my head to indicate the building we were standing in front of. "This is Bridgestone. It's where I'm headed, too."

The man's eyes got brighter at that, if it was possible. It made him look younger, and I realized I had probably just been gawking at some college student for the past fifteen minutes. It would explain the attire.

"Are you going to Niall's?" He asked. He was looking at the six-pack in my hand.

I paused before I remembered that Niall said this party was being thrown for a mate who had just graduated. I made a point to extend my free hand to him

"Oh, how embarrassing," I aimed for a drawl but my words came out breathy, face still flushed. I tried to cough it off before starting again. "I wasn't aware I was in the presence of the _guest of honor."_

A wide smile broke out across the man's face, displaying dimples that had been in hiding. A rough, warm hand engulfed mine. "No fanfare, please," he winked, "I'm just like everybody else."

"Well, who would I be if I didn't offer to escort you to your celebration?" Why was I still holding his hand? The world may never know.

"Who would I be to decline?" He shot back, quick as a whip. Before I could think any more on the matter, he had looped his arm through my free one and I was leading him to the lifts.

The doors closed and we were alone in a very small space. "What's your name?" I asked because I didn't know and because I was afraid of how I actually wanted to fill the silence.

"Harry. Harry Styles." His dimples were back and stronger than ever.

"Louis Tomlinson," I responded, holding my hand out again for a shake. His hand practically engulfed my own, and again he didn't let go until the doors of the lift opened with a ding.

Entering one of Niall's parties was always overwhelming, at first. The man knew more people than a primary school teacher had reason to, and he could somehow fit them all into his two-bedroom flat. Once you took in the crowds around you, it was then always a shock to see the ample amounts of alcohol his kitchen could display.

"Tommo! You've met Harry already, I see!" Niall's voice was booming from the living room, somehow noticing us enter the flat through the dancers surrounding him. Because despite being on his way to thirty, Niall Horan still hosted parties with people dancing and grinding in his living room. 

"Everybody, welcome Harry Styles! Next big thing and the reason you're all here! Show 'im how we do it in London!" Niall's cheerful voice rang out over the crowd, and dozens of cheers and "welcome to Londons" spread across the room. 

Niall was smiling when he got to us. Harry was too, but his cheeks were red and he looked almost bashful of all the attention that had just been thrown his way.

"Next big thing?" I asked him, and the blush only seemed to deepen.

Niall clapped Harry on the shoulder then. "He didn't tell you? His new job is to be the guitarist for Zayn Malik! How sick is that?" 

I was impressed. Harry shrugged Niall's arm off and the Irishman seemed to disappear into the crowd again. Harry in the meantime was looking at me with such bright eyes I wanted to reach for sunglasses.

"Niall likes to make a big deal out of things. I'm excited about the job, but it isn't like I'm the star. I'm just the guitarist."

"Still, mate," I found myself saying, voice thick with awe, "Zayn Malik? You'll be playing some crazy gigs! And to think I saw you on the street and thought you were homeless!"

Harry laughed at that, which was good because it took me a second to process how rude that probably sounded. "Wanna get a drink? I wanna find out what you do to be friends with our wonderful Nialler."

I was suddenly embarrassed to admit to this obviously talented man what my job was, but I lifted up the six-pack in my hand, anyway. "Let's not let these go to waste."

—-

It turns out Harry thought my job was incredible, if the way he clung to me all night, eyes sparkling as I told him stories of the kids was any evidence. I might have found myself clinging to him as he explained his audition process and rehearsing for an upcoming concert, but no one had to know. 

We consumed my entire six-pack within the first half-hour, soon moving on to stronger stuff. Taking shots together and sucking limes as we told each other jokes. I started to get a bit wobbly on my feet a few hours later, and if the way Harry was swaying as he told me about his home in Holmes Chapel was any indication, he was also feeling the effects of the night. I gently grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the hallway, where I knew Niall kept his furniture when he cleared out space for his parties.

Harry followed dutifully, though he stopped talking and looked at me questioningly. "Gonna find a seat for us, babes. Think we're both a little dizzy."

Harry just giggled at that and clasped my hand tighter. I smiled drunkenly up at him before I felt my shins hit what appeared to be the sofa. I sat down and tugged Harry to sit beside me, but his clumsy, drunken body landed heavily in my lap instead. I was going to push him off until I realized I had brought us to the hideous armchair instead, and there was only room for both of us if one sat on the other's lap.

I laughed, giddy at the warmth of his long limps on top of mine, even though I didn't want to admit it. Harry laughed with me, situating himself until he was curled in my lap like a very lanky kitten.

We stayed quiet for a moment, breathing each other in, until I broke the silence.

"So, the grandpa clothes?" I teased, fingering a hole that had been made in the knee of his jeans. Because, it would be criminal not to, all that skin being presented right in front of me like this. Harry didn't seem to have any objections, swatting the air playfully while moving his leg to allow me more access to his warm skin. 

"It's better for the environment to buy second-hand," he shrugged, "Plus, I'm a broke Uni grad who hasn't gotten his first paycheck yet, so..."

"Baby has a lot of growing up to do, huh?" I grinned, moving to softly cup his exposed knee. And, maybe I'd had too much to drink if this was my second time calling him 'baby,' but Harry didn't seem to mind.

"Just a baby..." he echoed, no, _preened,_ leaning in closer. "Maybe you can teach me some things..."

There was a lot of alcohol on his breath. Almost as much as there was on mine. I laughed, bright and free, pushing back on his chest lightly and handing him his cup.

"Don't know how much there is left to teach a minx like you," I smiled. "Drink your juice, doll." Because we were both cut off for the night. Per my orders (and Niall's).

His eyes were heated as he watched me over the rim of his cup. When he was done he licked his obscene red lips until they were shiny. My stomach tugged in a way that it hadn't in a very long time.

"Darling, you know I can't stay," the words didn't sound as sure as I wanted them to be. They were whispered and breathy. His eyes were still boring into me, making me feel warm and adored under his gaze. "I've given my heart and my word to a girl far away."

Emotions flickered across his face faster than I could comprehend, but then a slow, gentle grin spread across his face. He leaned in again and kissed my cheek, plush lips that felt oh, so, tender.

"Never knew I could get my heart broken in less than a day." His voice was even quieter than mine had been, lips brushing my ear lobe. The vibrations his chest made pressed against my own made me long to wrap my arms around him and never leave this disgusting armchair, but I couldn't. I had to do the right thing, even if it didn't feel right.

We spent the night tangled together on the armchair. Harry Styles was gone the next day.

\---  
The Next Time that I Saw {Him}

_"The next time I saw her/ Must have been a year or more/ Face stained with mascara/ Shivering outside my door"_

"Powderpuff, are you hungry, my love?" I asked the question rhetorically. Not because she was a cat, but because her eyes were already answering the question as she sat firmly in front of her empty dish.

"I'm so sorry to have abandoned you today, my love. What kind of father am I? Leaving his child to starve?" Puff did not seem entertained by my musings because she meowed loudly in response. I chuckled lightly and dumped the meat and jelly into her dish a bit ungracefully. She didn't care about presentation; she was a cat.

"My precious darling, I promise never to leave you again. Except for tomorrow. And the next hundred and seventy-eight weekdays after that." Puff glanced up at me briefly but continued eating her dinner. 

The truth was, I had felt quite guilty leaving Puff alone. It was the first time since I had gotten her over the summer that I had been gone for the whole day, but I couldn't miss the first day of school just to hang out with my cat. Especially since that's what I did all summer anyway.

Puff has been my solution to the now permanently empty flat I inhabited. Eleanor had come home in the spring with a dark tan on her skin and an apology on her lips. We'd both fallen out of love, and it was only a matter of days before she was moving out for good. 

It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, but then again I had been certain of our future - or lack thereof - the moment I locked eyes with Harry on the street all those months ago. Now it was just me waiting for him to return from his amazing world tour so I could make my move.

The waiting was helped by the presence of my wonderful Powderpuff (a name chosen for her by Doris), who was now done eating and making her way to sit on the couch with me. 

"You've forgiven me so quickly?" I chuckled, softly mashing the fur of her stomach. "You must have realized the bowl was full when I left, so the one at fault here is you." Puff simply purred under the administrations. 

My buzzer went off just as I reached for my remote because of course it did. "Yes?" I called through the speaker, wondering who would be here on a Monday afternoon.

There was a hitch of breath, and then, "Lou?"

And the voice, though I had only heard it once all those months ago, felt more to me like coming home than this flat did. "Harry? Is that you?"

Another hitch, almost like a sob, came through the speaker before he responded. "Yeah, it is, can I - can I come up?"

"Of course, love." I buzzed him up. This was weird. How did he find out where I lived? How was he here? If my investigation skills were right, Zayn should be on tour in North America for the next few weeks. Was Harry missing shows?

I couldn't think much longer before there was a gentle knock on my door, and even if the small sobs I had been able to make out clued me in on something amiss, I wasn't prepared for the sight before me.

Harry, young, beautiful, bright-eyed Harry, was standing on my doorstep, shaking like a leaf and crying, tears and - was that mascara? - streaming down his face.

I gasped, couldn't help it. "Oh, love," I opened my arms and suddenly he was in them, body warm despite his shivering, "Can you tell me what's happened?"

His nod was very subtle, but it got stronger after a few seconds and he was standing on his own again, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt. I didn't have time to comprehend the butterfly that adorned his stomach before he was looking at me again, eyes wet and red.

"Can we sit down?" 

That shocked me into action, and I quickly shuffled both of us into the living room. Harry went to sit next to Puff, who took one sniff of his hand and jumped into his lap. I watched him smile weakly at that, softly rubbing down Puff's back. "I didn't know you had a cat."

"She's new," I responded, trying to brush aside the topic. I did not want to discuss Puff when it was obvious how distressed Harry was.

Something flickered in his eyes as he kept gazing down at where she was needing into his thigh. "Is she - um, your girlfriend's...?" and then before I could answer, Harry was looking at me worriedly. "Oh no, is she here? Am I disturbing -" 

"Shh, love," I cooed, and I really needed to stop calling him 'love' but it just felt so easy. "She's not here. She's gone, actually. For good." My face was warm. This was _not_ how I planned this discussion going.

"Oh." Harry was looking at Puff again, so I couldn't read his reaction to the news.

"Yeah." I coughed lightly. "Why are you here, Harry? How did you find me?"

This time I could see the blush rising on Harry's cheeks. When he glanced up at me, he looked abashed, but his eyes were shiny with tears again.

"I'm sorry," he whines lowly, "I'm just so - lost." He settled on the word, looking forlorn. "Niall gave me your address after the party and I just...kept it. Now I'm here because, because I'm so overwhelmed!" 

Puff, shocked by the outburst, pushed herself off of Harry's lap to get some distance, which allowed me to pull him close. I could feel his wet cheeks against the skin of my neck. I held him, still very confused and very heartbroken to see this beautiful boy so upset.

"I wanted to come home." He finally calmed down after a few minutes so he could talk again, pulling himself free from my shoulder. "I feel like I'm just always moving and I never get to _breathe._ My lungs feel like they're _running out of air._ And I'm so _tired."_ He was crying again, but there were no sobs, just soft tears trailing down his face. Slowly, so as not to spook him, I used my thumbs to wipe them away for him. He smiled slightly.

"I was going to go home," he explained. "I managed to find a replacement for a couple of shows and I was going to just stay in one place for a while, but...I just couldn't look at my mother. This is all I've ever wanted, and I'm already backing out? What would she say?"

"I'm sure she'd understand perfectly that you got overwhelmed," I promised him. "New jobs are hard, and traveling even harder. No wonder you haven't been able to find solid ground. Literally."

A dimple on his left cheek made a brief appearance at that. I smiled back at him in return. "Listen, Harry, I'm happy that you trust me enough to come to me, but don't be afraid to talk to your mother, yeah? She will always support you. We both will." I added the last part quietly. It was probably too much to admit so soon, but it was true. It was hard not to look into his green eyes and think of being by his side for as long as he would have me.

Wow, definitely too much to be thinking about right now.

"What do you need to feel settled again?" I asked him, putting on a cheery smile. "Hot tea? A good cuddle? Some more conversation? Or some mindless television?"

Harry coughed, slightly awkward, "Um, that all sounds amazing, really." I grinned for real at that.

"All right, love, I'll be right back with some tea and a blanket. The remote is right there, so feel free to find what you want."

When I returned with two hot cuppas and one of the softest blankets I owned, I found Harry lying curled around Puff again, an episode of Gogglebox playing on the screen.

"Budge up," I gently nudged him, setting the tea on the coffee table, "you said you could do for a cuddle, right?"

"Yes, please," Harry sighed, sitting up to make a space for me before leaning his weight down against me, Puff still curled in his arms. 

I made quick work of wrapping us in the blanket and distributing the tea. I had to hold myself back from pressing any more information out of Harry - or pressing a kiss to his temple. Instead, I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and drank my tea. 

"I've thought about you every day, love," I whispered softly into the room. Harry didn't respond, just leaned against me more heavily. This all just felt so easy.

——

Gogglebox has been playing for a few hours now, and Harry's head was now in my lap. I was taking my time threading my fingers through his velvet curls, every now and again massaging his scalp. His eyes were closed and his face was truly peaceful for the first time all night, but his uneven breathing told me he wasn't quite asleep yet.

"H?" I asked quietly, poking at his cheek. "Would you like to take the guest room for the night?"

His eyes blinked open at that. He turned his head to look at me, stretching his limbs, not unlike Puff did in the mornings. "No, no, I couldn't."

"It's no trouble," I assured him, but something in his eyes told me that it was.

"Darling, I can't stay," he was the one saying the words this time, just a low hum in the dark of my flat. "I am supposed to leave tomorrow, really wasn't supposed to miss as long as I did." I went all the way to Cheshire and back before I thought of coming here." He was sitting up now, awkwardly looking at his hands where they were fisted in my blanket. "Besides, I've given my heart and my word to a boy far away. Zayn."

My throat suddenly felt scratchy, like I needed to cough, or cry. I allowed myself to do the former. "Wow, hmm, never knew I," my voice cracked, I coughed again, "could get my heart broken in so many ways." But of course.

Of course Harry belonged with someone like the stunning Zayn Malik. Of course that is how his life should be, star-studded and as extraordinary as he was.

I watched Harry Styles walk down the hallway and closed my front door knowing I would never see him again.

\--  
The Last Time That I Saw {Him}

_"The last time I saw her/ Standing in the pouring rain/ Hair a little shorter/ But everything else looked the same"_

"Now, everyone, let's not forget to bring back our permission slips so that we can all go to the orchestra next Friday!" I called to the fourth years as they were beginning to pack away their recorders. It wasn't like these kids needed reminding, most of them had turned in the forms today. They were one of the most organized classes I had ever had. God must be trying to throw me a bone.

"And tell your parents they are welcome to join us if they purchase their own ticket!" A few whispers went around the room at that, kids asking each other if their parents planned on attending and what they planned on wearing that day.

"Mr. Tommo?" I heard a voice call from the front row. I turned to see Lizzie raising her hand shyly.

"Yes, Liz?" I asked kindly. It was all I could do some days to get Lizzie to make eye contact with me, but when I put an instrument in her hand she could run away with it.

"I was wondering if I could bring my uncle to the orchestra? He's visiting for a short time and he loves music."

I felt my smile broaden. The few times I had spoken to Lizzie's mother on parent-teacher nights, she always made a point to mention the uncle Lizzie idolized. I knew she must be more excited than she was letting on to have him visiting. "Of course he can come, Elizabeth! The more the merrier!"

Lizzie blushed brightly at my outburst, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear nervously, she whispered, "Thank you, Mr. Tommo," just as the bell rang for the end of the day.

"And don't forget to bring raincoats! Telly calls for a downpour!" I called out to the students as they tumbled out the door, disregarding my words. I sighed wearily, but couldn't stop a small grin from gracing my features. I was so appreciative to be getting the opportunity to share wonderful music with these children, especially ones who seemed so eager to learn it. I could only hope Friday would go swimmingly.

——-

"I asked for Friday to _go swimmingly,_ not to make my students go _swimming,"_ I huffed angrily, curling my shoulders more under my umbrella as the rain pounded harder. 

I was at the theatre much earlier than I had asked the kids to come, wanting to greet every student as they appeared. Unfortunately, that looked like it meant standing in a flash flood for half an hour. 

Entering the lobby made me feel like even more of a fool. The pristine atmosphere was ruined only by my drenched frame dripping rainwater onto the velvet carpet.

I sighed, pulling out my phone and dialing my "connection" to the orchestra, an old college roommate that was now one of the most celebrated cellists in England. Liam had worked his magic at the orchestra and secured an entire section of the balcony for my class, at a great price. "Li, hey," I greeted when he answered the call, "I'm in the entrance."

"Be right there," he responded promptly before I heard a blank dial tone, meaning he had hung up. Whatever it was that moved inside Liam when he played, I'd never know. He was a bit of a hardass without a bow in his hands.

Liam made it out front at the same thing that my first student arrived, clasping his mother's hand. "Try to make a section for the kids and parents to wait," I told Liam as I marked Thomas as "present" on my clipboard. "I'm gonna wait under the awning outside, check the kids off, and send 'em your way." I looked back at Liam one last time. "Please don't lose anyone," I begged.

Liam rolled his eyes at that, but huffed out a 'no promises, Tommo' before directing Thomas and his mother towards the staircase to the balcony.

I rolled my eyes back at him, though I knew he couldn't see me, and ducked back outside. The awning, fortunately, provided enough shelter to avoid causing my clothing or my clipboard any more water damage. It also gave me a chance to catch all the students before that went inside and treated the place like a playground.

From where I stood I could also peek inside and see that Liam and some of the parents had successfully corralled all the kids near the staircase, so my only job was to make sure that every student that showed up for the orchestra left the orchestra as well. I felt pretty confident in my abilities.

"Is that everyone, Lou?" Liam called out as he made to usher my students and their guests up the stairs. I looked down at my sign-in sheet, seeing every name marked off except - 

"Wait! We're coming!" A deep voice called out from behind me. I spun to greet the newcomers - and froze. 

Standing in the doorway, still being drenched by the pouring rain, was Harry Styles. Harry Styles with a significantly shorter hair cut and what looked to be corduroy trousers, but Harry Styles nonetheless.

For a moment, we both stood there. A thousand thoughts raced through my head, searching for something to tell him, but my mouth stayed glued shut. I could see a similar turmoil reflected in his eyes as we stood frozen, being pelted by the rain. 

"Mr. Tommo! Look! My uncle is here!" Lizzie's exuberant voice broke through my thoughts, and I broke out of my stupor. 

"I see that! And we're lucky to have him join us!" I smiled at Lizzie and then at Harry. He smiled back just as wide, and a lightness lifted my heart. Maybe we didn't need to say anything right now, our matching smiles seemed to be confirmation enough.

I sighed softly, then pulled Lizzie toward the warmth of the building. "Come on, then. We don't want to miss the show!" 

"Can I sit next to you, Mr. Tommo?" Lizzie asked, much more reserved now that we had entered such a quiet room.

"You want to sit next to me?" I asked, surprised yet touched. "What about your special guest?"

"He can sit on my other side!" She explained easily. "I want to be with my favorite people!"

My eyes stung proudly at that, and I stood up straight to hide my tears. "That sounds wonderful, darling."

Harry, who had been quiet as he trailed after us, chimed in with a soft "agreed" that sent shivers down my spine. His voice alone seemed to send my nerves haywire.

When we found three seats left together on the balcony, we quickly made ourselves comfortable. And not a moment too soon as the curtain opened to reveal the sprawling orchestra and the conductor making his way toward the center of the stage.

I could hear a few murmurs of my students around me as they took in the shining instruments and lavish decor of the theatre, but there seemed to be enough parent chaperones around to keep the volume to a minimum. 

This did not include Harry, however, who whispered to Lizzie through the entire performance, explaining instruments and movements. Lizzie listened attentively to the music and her uncle's words, closing her eyes when prompted to "feel the emotion" of the work.

It just felt so domestic, so easy, to be sitting at the orchestra with Harry and his softly curling hair, a little girl with identical shining green eyes sitting between us. 

A part of me wondered if I was being too quick, too eager to be planning for children when I hadn't even confirmed my intentions with the man yet, but the bigger part of me, the part that had been thinking of only green eyes and dimples and knobby knees for the past eighteen months, seemed to be very on board with my fantasies. I could only hope that Harry would feel the same way.

——

At the end of the show, I wished all of my students farewell as I stood at the exit. Luckily, the storm from earlier seemed to have passed and my students walked off with their parents down the wet streets without the need for a cab. 

The only student who had yet to say goodbye was Lizzie, who I had seen sneak off backstage with Harry at the end of the show, probably hoping to meet some of the musicians.

When I turned to thank Liam for his help, however, I saw Lizzie at the bar, ordering what appeared to be a Shirley Temple.

"I told her she could have a treat," a voice explained from behind me, "no caffeine in Sprite, and I told her I wanted to thank her ruggedly handsome teacher for allowing me to come with her."

"Did you say that? 'Ruggedly handsome teacher?'" I quirked amp eyebrow at him.

He shook his head softly. "Not in so many words..." he took a step closer, almost too close to be considered publicly acceptable, "But I was definitely thinking it. Have been thinking it for about a year and a half now."

"Slow burn kind of guy? Have to wait at least a year to make a move?" 

"Something like that..." he whispered. His dimple was slowly coming out of hiding. He was only a breath away when I pulled back.

"Harry, wait -"

Harry froze, pulling back himself, dimple replaced by a deep frown and furrowed brows. "Is there someone else, again? I should have guessed, a guy as great as you -"

I placed a hand over his mouth to shut him up and could feel the crinkles form by my eyes as I smiled at him. "No, _no,_ sweetheart. I've been gone for you since you sat on my lap and drank grape juice. I just don't think we should start kissing here," I gestured to the velvet walls and Lizzie, waiting patiently at the bar, "I might not be willing to let you go so soon, and poor Lizzie probably needs to get home."

Harry's eyes, which had clouded over a bit at my teasing, cleared up quickly at the mention of his niece.

"Of course! Wonderful!" He exclaimed, suddenly an eager puppy in a man's body. "How about I drop Lizzie off at her house and then...swing by yours? You still live at the same place?"

"I do," I grinned, "and that sounds fantastic. We have eighteen months to make up for, so plan on staying the night."

"How about I plan on staying forever?" He joked, and because I was so pleased by that statement and my self-control had slowly been chipping away all night, I leaned in to press a quick kiss to his velvet lips.

"Even better."


End file.
